Pass The Flame
by Freddy Drinks Coke
Summary: Seguro Snape, flamboyant brother to the potions professor, takes the job as DADA professor. Well written insanity! Something we've all been waiting for!
1. Still Red Hot!

**Capítulo Uno: ¡Todavía rojo vivo!**

When a dyed purple owl wearing a tiny sombrero swooped into his office, diligently hooting "La Cucaracha", Snape knew it was going to be a long day. He had seen this owl many times before; it belonged to his Hispanic half brother, whom he had (thankfully) not seen for about 12 years. In order to greet it properly, he, with a terrified look contorting his sallow face, took up a confiscated broom that had been leaning on his desk and thrashed it wildly through the air. "Shoo! Shoo!" he commanded, amidst the lavender fowl's screeches of indignation. José Juan Pablo, the bird, released a package from his talons and roosted on top of a tall filing cabinet, ruffling its feathers angrily.

"I don't want the bloody letter!" snarled Snape, using the broom to knock the box off of his desk. It skidded to the stone floor, quivered and promptly hid in a corner. With a malicious glare in its direction, Snape swept the mussed black hair from his forehead and tried to return to lesson preparation. He, however, couldn't concentrate; his heart rate was too high, throbbing loudly in his head. It never failed. Every year, Seguro Snape, professional cabana boy, remembered his birthday. Simply for that reason, Severus Snape, for most of his life, allowed that generally treasured day to pass by unnoticed. He wouldn't have minded a decent gift, but knew that he would never receive one that met his lofty standards. For example, the previous year, José Juan Pablo (then a bright green) had swooped into his Potions lesson (sixth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins) and deposited a hideous Muggle garment onto his head: a positively charming t-shirt depicting an inebriated parrot holding a bottle. The caption? "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor". He had hidden the shirt in the farthest corner of his most isolated filing cabinet.

"Damn it!" Severus finally cried, leaping to his feet and pouncing on his birthday present.

José Juan Pablo raised a feathery eyebrow in confusion as Severus ripped open the package, revealing a complete set of bondage necklaces, a pink t-shirt reading "If I were your pet I'd run away", and a letter in a scarlet envelope.

"…" Infuriated, he silently stared at the obnoxious gifts, trying desperately to incinerate them with his eyes. You can only imagine his surprise when the envelope actually burst into flames. "What the..?" he dropped it instantly, pulled up the hem of his robe, and prodded the smoldering pile with his toe, as if crushing a roach. The fire dwindled and died, leaving a small pile of ashes on the floor. Confused, but somehow annoyed, he leaned over it. A small messaged was framed by the gray matter. Snape's nostrils flared when he deciphered the flowery handwriting.

**_Still Red Hot!  
See you on Monday!_**

**_-S. S._ **

His black eyes involuntarily shot to the calendar. "Nnn-nn-n-no-no…NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


	2. Two Snapes!

**Capítulo Dos: _Two _Snapes?**

"_Two _Snapes?" Ron repeated, incredulous, a piece of toast hanging precariously from his limp hand.

Sighing, Mrs. Weasley watched as the used breakfast dishes washed themselves busily, then took some toast for herself. "That's what Mr. Weasley said, dears," she continued, nibbling. She was dieting, and had adopted the philosophy that if you took small bites of the same food you always ate, you, in turn, would slim down.

"Oh, I bet Snape's _furious,_" Hermione assessed, brown eyes wide.

Harry had nothing to contribute but a muffled choking noise. Almost unconsciously, as he too was shocked, Fred Weasley karate-chopped Harry's back. A piece of bacon, almost intact, flew like a projectile missile from his throat and rolled across the table cloth.

"Urgh, Harry, are you all right?" inquired Ginny from across the table, staring, disgusted, at the ejected pork.

"Fine…" he wheezed, gulping water. "When she said that…just kind of sucked it down."

"I'm glad we came to visit. You could have died," said Fred solemnly. "Divine intervention," agreed George from near the sink.

"Back up!" stuttered Ron suddenly. "Snape has a _brother_!"

"A _half _brother, dear. He's probably nothing like Snape, you don't need to worry," Mrs. Weasley corrected him.

"I hope he's nothing like Grawp," Hermione mumbled, eyes wide with fear as rather unpleasant memories of another half brother flooded her thoughts.

"Grawp? Who's Grawp?" Mrs. Weasley questioned.

"Only the scariest thing in the world," Hermione replied.

Mrs. Weasley's question remained unanswered in her opinion, but she was no longer sure that she wanted to know.

"This is horrible. _Two _Snapes! We won't be moving onto seventh year!" Ron groaned.

"Ha! At least we won't have to deal with them!" George laughed, winking at his twin.

"Will he be joining the Order?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. You'll have to ask your father," Mrs. Weasley replied.

Later that night, the Weasley boys sat together with Harry in Ron's cluttered bedroom.

"I bet his nose is twice as big as Snape's!" Fred snickered.

"And he's four times as greasy!" George laughed.

Harry thought for a moment and said, "Didn't someone say he was Hispanic?"

Ron chuckled. "Hispanic? Don't be ridiculous!"

Embarrassed for his stupid comment, Harry pulled the blankets over his head and slowly began falling asleep. He dreamed of a cupcake. It was pink.

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"Ha!" Harry burst into consciousness with a laugh, "I _told _you that he was Hispanic!"

Mr. Potter, due to the fact that he was currently in the wake of the Hogwarts Express, had not realized that he had suffered yet another injury inflicted as a result of his stupidity. So excited was the poor git to start another school year, that he had galloped headlong, whooping all the while, into a column… a real, brick column that was quite solid indeed. By the time the Hogwarts Express had pulled into the station, Harry was catatonic, and his bleeding ears entailed a brain hemorrhage. Though, by magical standards, his affliction was the Muggle equivalent to a paper cut, Mrs. Weasley was positively beside herself when the door to the staff car slid opened and an extremely frazzled Poppy Pomfrey emerged. A nurse was always brought along on the train ride since a tragic incident involving a first year, a stray Fillibuster's, and a rogue toad; and it seemed that Madam Pomfrey would be the only mandated medic to have ever actually _done _something medical. It seemed, that is, until from nowhere (in reality, it was from behind a Slytherin girl with a glandular problem, however, no one witness the actually arrival, so all present would later claim that the newcomer could control hyperspace) a flash of pink silk, black leather, and rippling tresses appeared.

"The calciochloriside in his coccyx is unbalanced!" a melodic, Spanish accented voice called before anyone actually got a look at its source.

In unison, everyone turned to see a gorgeous man with tanned olive skin, silky black hair, seductive black eyes, a large nose and… a pink ruffled flamenco shirt. Girls swooned, parents disapproved, and the more masculine men were laughing so hard that there were tears in their eyes.

"Seguro,_ please _go back in the train," begged Madam Pomfrey.

"No! This boy needs my help! Can you not see for yourself? This is clearly a job for Seguro Snape!" Seguro posed dramatically and José Juan Pablo (now a neon pink) began hooting a theme song (something like a mix between James Bond and "La Cucaracha").

About that time, the abandoned patient let out a wet gurgling sound; apparently, poor Harry was drowning in his own blood. "HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD!" shrieked Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley in varying degrees of synchronization, the latter fainting conspicuously onto Colin Creevey, who snapped a lovely picture of her ample behind before being buried beneath it.

Ron, having long since wet his robes laughing at his fallen comrade, stared, disbelieving, at the bronze God who claimed to be a Snape. "You're _his _brother?"

"Quiet! Lay down!" With no warning and little explanation, Seguro tackled Ron to the ground and positioned him in what looked very much like a Lamaze stance. "Your water broke; the baby is on its way!" Absolutely thrilled, Fred and George knelt quickly and each grabbed a hand. "Push, Ron, push!"

"Get off, you gits!" Ron cried, struggling under the weight of the three grown men.

Madam Pomfrey hurried over and attempted to pry Seguro off of Ron. No one noticed Harry convulsing in the background, blood bubbling in his throat.

"Poppy! If this baby doesn't come now, then the mother will die!" Seguro screeched.

"Ron, what have you not been telling me!" Mrs. Weasley, no longer unconscious, but still sprawled over Colin, shrieked.

"You slut!" chimed Ginny.

"Mum, it's not my fault he's a nutter!" Ron shouted, and then self-consciously tugged at the front of his robes. "Do I really look _that _fat?"

"Yes," said Fred and George to the gangly teen, watching as Seguro descended on Harry's motionless corpse (?) and took him firmly by the lapel.

"Live!" he cried, shaking the boy vigorously by the collar. Harry's head bobbed comically, his glasses askew, but he didn't reply.

"Don't move him!" growled Madam Pomfrey, trying to detach Harry from Seguro's desperate grip.

"Harry! Harry! Do it, he's a teacher!" recommended Hermione, weeping, almost hysterical.

"_He's _a teacher?" came a drawling voice from the small crowd that had gathered around the activity. Amidst several orgasmic gasps, the overly good-looking Slytherin stepped into sight. In the next paragraph, the ridiculous extent of Mr. Malfoy's aesthetic appeal will be described. It is inevitable, so…

How hot was sixth year Draco? Well, rest assured, the temperature would put the Devil's sauna to shame. His skin was as pale as the moon, but lacked the craters, as any whisper of acne had passed with his pubescence. His eyes were like melted silver, pooling around his dark pupils and reflecting like mirrors. No doubt this effect was very cool when he saw his reflection in the morning. People thought it was nothing more than severe narcissism when he spent hours gazing at himself in the bathroom, but it was only because he was muttering, "Where does it end?" too quietly for anyone to hear. Blowing in a wind all others were immune to, his flaxen hair hung longer than previous years and framed his magnificent visage. He stood tall and proud, robes clinging to his masculine curves and muscular ripples.

"That idiot is a _teacher?_"

Many people, including Gryffindors, had to agree with Draco that the suggestion was ridiculous.

"Excuse me, _Mariposa, _but you have no right to make such comments! 50 points from Slytherin!" Seguro snarled, for a moment looking as menacing as his brother.

"Finally, a Snape with some sense in his head," grumbled Pomfrey.

Draco allowed his fellow Slytherins to argue with the new professor while he swam through the chaos to the trembling body of Harry Potter. For a moment, it seemed that the stunning Malfoy was going to end Harry's life with a single kick to the teen's already wounded skull. But instead, Draco dropped to his knees and began bawling. "Harry! I've been waiting to tell you this for six years! I love you!" Harry's emerald eyes dilated with shock. He grunted something in protest as the Slytherin began groping him. "I swear on you're death bed, I will avenge you!" Draco exclaimed.

_How? By destroying the wall I ran into? _Harry thought rather sarcastically. His vocal cords were perfectly operational, but, at that point in time, the only outlet for his statement had been…er, blocked. Draco had taken it upon himself to lovingly administer what looked (and sounded) like a cross between CPR and an extremely wet kiss. At the sight of this, Ron began having genuine labor pains. Groaning, he rolled over and vomited in a majestic fountain.

"Congratulations!" George began. "It's a boy!" Fred completed.

Meanwhile, Hermione, though momentarily distracted by the fascinating progress of Draco's tongue, finally shook her head free of any fantasies and sprung forward to end the suffocation. "Get _off _him, you horny dimwit! He's not dead yet!"

"It's the kiss of life!" Draco cried defensively. "I'm heroic, not horny!"

For some reason everyone was too focused on the "birth" to realize that the Boy Who Lived was dying. Lucky for Draco, only Hermione saw as he dove onto Harry and began tearing his clothes off. If anyone else actually had seen, there would have been a mass suicide of Draco lovers.

"Not horny? Malfoy, he doesn't need to be naked to be rescued!" Hermione yelled.

"The clothes are restraining his breathing! Back off and give me room to operate! I must examine his genitalia!" Draco screeched, clawing at Harry's pants.

"Good thinking, my boy! Ten pointes to Slytherin!" a silvery voices sad suddenly. Seguro had broken free of Madam Pomfrey's restraining headlock and was now leaning with some kind of clueless authority over Harry's body. "Every good doctor knows that the only way to cure a cerebral hemorrhage is to grab the pen-"

"Please, don't make me do this, professor!" Every one present swiveled their head in the direction of Hermione's frightened, yet uncharacteristically resolved squeak. She was gripping her wand tightly, as if holding on for dear life, and one eyebrow was twitching from sheer concentration.

"Away, frizzy girl!" Seguro commanded, quite unwisely. "Leave me to my work…go condition that fright wig or something!"

BAM! A beam of green light hit him squarely in the chest. Several perverted first-years were disappointed, convinced that they were about to witness an interesting encounter, had not Hermione just murdered one of the better looking members of the threesome…

"OH MY GOD, HERM, YOU KILLED HIM!!!" Ron shrieked.

But as the smoke settled it became obvious that Hermione had killed no one. Seguro stood tall, slicking his hair back into place. Due to his Dr. Bravo's High Viscosity Hair Gel©, the Avada Kedavra spell had ricocheted off his hair and swerved around Draco to hit Harry Potter instead.

Ron pouted. "No…no, you didn't…"

"Harry! My lover! You're hurt!" Draco squealed.

Draco was right. Harry Potter now had two lightening bolt scars: the original was on his forehead and the new one on his nose, gushing blood and glowing a freakish neon color. "Ouyaee…" he groaned inarticulately, pawing at the raw cartilage.

Draco, shallow as always, tilted his head in appraisal. "Erm, my love is undying and all…but, _my, _you're hideous now…Ha! Your parents are dead!" Kicking Harry in the shins and throwing a dirty look at the less attractive Gryffindor, he melted back into his Slytherin entourage, not before slipping his number to Seguro, who patted him on the head.

"Well, then…let's get to the school. Can't be late!" Seguro announced, ushering students onto the train.

"Here's your new son," Fred and George laughed, placing a dead owl in the arms of their brother.

No one realized that the dead owl was Hedwig… Ron didn't even notice that it was a deal owl.

"I will call it Sir Barthalumulimsington IV!" Ron exclaimed, holding his son to his chest.

Mrs. Weasley leaped off of Colin Creevey to rush for her new grandson. Colin's arms and legs were crushed from the weight of the large woman and Madam Pomfrey, completely forgetting Harry now, ran over to help him.

"Wait…" Harry moaned, but was ignored. The platform was cleared and the train began puffing smoke. "Don't leave me!" Harry groaned, crawling after the train.

The train was soon miles ahead. Harry collapsed onto the tracks, giving up his chase. Suddenly, the conductor remembered that he had left his ugly conductor hat and put the train in reverse. Harry's eyes grew wide with fear as the train backed nearer and nearer. There was a disgusting crunch sound as the Boy Who Lived was crushed under the wheels. The conductor jumped off of the train, picked his hat off of the ground, dusted it off and returned onto the train. Harry was squished like a cockroach under the wheels of the train as it drove off towards the castle.

"Ow…" he grunted.


	3. An Eventful Feast

**Capítulo Tres: Un Banquete Lleno de Acontecimientos**

"This is it, Severus. Your day of reckoning has arrived. The fashion in which you deal with this menace will shape your entire existence. Whatever you do…_don't_…_do_…_what you did_…_at the reunion_…" People wondered how Snape could always maintain his wisely calculated degree of serene sinisterness. Truth was, all his remarkable talent took was a little reflection pep-talk before he left the office. "You have to be very forceful with your mirrored self. It's the key to self-control," he muttered… His reflection rolled its black eyes and slipped him the finger. "Don't back sass me!" he prepared to command, before the heavy cedar door banged opened.

"Did someone say fashion???"

Seguro jumped into the room and embraced his older brother. Snape, furious at having his pep-talk interrupted, struggled in his brother's arms.

"Let me go!" Snape demanded.

The grip became tighter. Seguro was absolutely thrilled to see his only sibling. He buried his face in his brother's greasy hair and began sobbing. "Oh, I love you, Sevie! I've missed you _so _much! I'm so glad to see you!" Seguro squealed.

Snape fell to the floor and his little brother showered his face in kisses. Neither had any idea that a lost first year had wandered into the Potions classroom and was watching them through a small window in the office door. As she witnessed two men kissing her innocence shattered. A few years afterwards she would join Voldemort and get a part time job as a Muggle lesbian stripped and would be arrested for murdering a pair of gay men. The police would drag her to a prison and during the chaos she would kick a depressed bystander who would then commit suicide and change the fate of the universe. No one would have blamed the Snape brothers.

Seguro froze and said, "I found this wonderful hair product that did miracles for my hair. Would you like to try it? And I have some extra crest white strips, too…"

"No…good…God…be…_professional_!" Snape gasped from within the corset-like vice grip, then, fidgeting, finally freed himself. Gulping down the sweet, sweet dungeon air, he rose shakily to his feet, using the desk to support himself. "Pull yourself together, man! You are an adult and a _teacher_!"

"A teacher who LOVES HIS BROTHER!!" Seguro contradicted as a number of crescendo-ing violins began a dramatic score. Before he became enveloped in another bone-crunching embrace, Snape blanched and reflexively chucked a dead pig floating in formaldehyde at his head. The music ceased and, though the jar simply bounced off of his hair shield, Seguro seemed deeply hurt. _Deeply _hurt.

"Whydoyoualwayshavetodotha-haaaaaaaat? I only wanted t-t-to _help _you with your _hope_-less aesthetics but you won't ever TALK TO ME!!" he sobbed incoherently, rending his flamenco ruffles, tearing at his silken hair, gnashing his lustrous teeth, the magnitude of his purging nearly Biblical. "What'd I doooo?!"

"What did you do?" Snape repeated bitterly, as if a minor spitting out his first taste of alcohol. "What did you _do_? You're a disgrace to our family's name! You're vain! You think you're Spanish! And as if I didn't loathe you enough to begin with, _you took my job_!"

"I _am _Spanish!" he retorted, his expression panicked.

"No, you are not!" roared Snape, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him back to reality. "You're a self-deceiving British man! Take off the caps, Seguro, and you'll see the horrid teeth that are truly yours!"

"Sevie, I don't have horrid teeth. I visit my dentist and orthodontist frequently! My teeth are great! I've had second place in the Most Charming Smile Award 5 years in a row! After that damned Lockhart! But he's old school now! This year that award is mine! MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The lights flickered dramatically while Seguro cackled among the disgusting jars and vials in his brother's office. Snape stared with a single, thin, black eyebrow raised.

"Why does this concern _me_? I'm not that fond of you, if you haven't caught on yet, and your obsession with my lack of 'glamour' isn't helping matters."

Seguro's black eyes took on a slightly insane glint, and he flashed those white beauties again. Snape winced. "You know, we really _do _look alike," Seguro pointed out, positioning Snape beside himself in the pep-talk mirror. In actuality, the complete absence of resemblance was laughable. It looked as if _maybe_, a long time before, there had been a common, large-nosed ancestor, but the two species it fathered had branched out… one race lived in a dank cave, the other was content with drinking margaritas in the sweltering sun. "We could be two of a kind. Maybe if we just tweaked the hair a bit… put a little color in those cheeks…and, god, if you would just _smile_…"

"THIS ISN'T QUEER GIZZARD FOR THE STRAIGHT WIZARD, SEGURO!" Snape gritted out, teeth chipping visibly with a sawing sound. "LEAVE…NOW!!!!"

"That's my favorite show," Seguro whimpered.

"ARG!" Snape screeched, pulling at his greasy hair.

"Mommy used to get stressed, too. She always felt better on Mother's Day when I paid for her to go to the spa. You could use a trip to the spa," Seguro suggested.

"I am _not _laying on a table naked while complete strangers slather me in lotions!" Snape roared.

"Mommy liked it-"

"I DON'T CARE! I HATE THAT WOMAN!" Snape yelled, throwing opened the door and pointing to the exit.

"You hate Mommy?"

"YES! GET OUT!"

Seguro rushed from the room, tears cascading from his black eyes like waterfalls. Students later wondered why the new professor had been wandering through the halls towards the Great Hall screaming for his Mommy.

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It really would have helped Snape's reputation if the students had been informed of his relation to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. However, so jovial was the high-spirited Dumbledore, that he forgot his speech entirely, except for a few choice words (Cummerbund! Norkie! Eel!). All the impressionable students (including one recently sorted, unnaturally pale and thin Hufflepuff) knew that there was a strange, good-looking man sitting in an irritable Snape's lap, contentedly lapping at a large lollipop.

"I seriously hope he's Snape's brother," Ron whispered, holding Sir Barthalumulimsington IV to his bare chest in an attempt to breast feed it. "There are children in here."

He realized he was sitting alone without Harry (left at the station) and Hermione (dragged to Azkaban for using an illegal curse). So, he moved down to sit with the other sixth years.

"Now my Bogart is Snape and that man having bum sex," Neville whimpered. "Is there any way to 'riddikulus' that?"

No one bothered to merit that question with an answer, but all held their stomachs queasily. In the midst of a gross-out epidemic, Hagrid approached, swaying from the amount of diet soda he had consumed. So simple minded was the half-giant that he could get positively hammered from Kool-Aid if he was told that it was spiked.

" ''''''' ''''' ''''''''''' ''''' '''?" he asked, hiccupping.

"Oh, hi Hagrid," Ron replied, pressing Sir Barthalumulimsington's limp body to his shoulder and patting him gently. "She got carted off to Azkaban."

" '''''?? '''''' '''' ''''''' ''' '' ''''' _'''''''_?!"

"Yes, she tried to kill a teacher. Now, quiet down, will you? Little Barty is trying to sleep," Ron scolded the overly-loud colossus.

" '', ''''', ''…'''''' '''''''?" he pressed, pulling out an empty chair and plopping into it with an audible "thwump".

"Hm…I'm not sure," Ron shrugged, rocking the rotting owl corpse back and forth. "I guess in the WC."

" ''' '''' '''''' ''''' ''''' '''''''' ''''?" Hagrid inquired incredulously through a turkey leg.

"That's right. Don't talk with your mouth full."

" ''''''? ''' ''''' ''''' ''''' ''''''''''''!" Hagrid laughing, roughly tousling Barty's feathers. Several fell out, and Ron shrieked.

"MY BAYBEEE!!!"

About that time, Professor McGonagall approached, and jammed a giant hypodermic needle full of rhinoceros sedative into Hagrid's ample buttocks. When the students stared at her in question, she sniffed disdainfully. "I had my eye on that turkey leg."

From across the room, a blonde girl's ruby, slit eyes narrowed with mirth. Though the sorting incident had caught him- no, her- off guard, and to say the least _angered _her momentarily, the great lummox's humiliation amused her in a sadistic way. With some difficulty, she pushed her large, thrashing chest from her line of sighed in order to get a better view. The Bludgers would have none of it, and expressed their irritation by hitting her squarely in the flat, reptilian nose. Shouting obscenities, she stood (at least seven feet tall) and fought back valiantly. However, Hagrid had begun to fall, so, in light of that, no one acknowledged the tall Hufflepuff being pummeled by her own breasts. No one, that is, except Ginny Weasley.

"I feel strangely connected to that girl…as if she once controlled my mind…" Ginny muttered to herself. "Nice rack, too."

Oblivious to all, Hagrid fell in dramatic slow motion, rotated in the air, all the while yelling, " ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''…!" The floor cracked when he made impact, and the quake caused the entire school to shudder.

Coincidentally, since the Great Hall was a dome, the only chunk of plaster that could have possibly loosened was above the Ravenclaw table. Even more coincidentally, though this plaster had held fast through the countless decades, it chose that precise moment to crumbled and fall.

Since Cho Chang is the only Ravenclaw we know and/or care about, she was the first to die, and her death was the most painful. For some reason she decided to stand at that precise moment while the actually intelligent Ravenclaws dove under the table. The first thing the falling ceiling hit was Cho's head, which sort of caved into her neck. Her spine cracked into thousands of pieces and the leaking magic gave her six testicles on her forehead and turned her skin purple. This all happened in very slow motion. She was dead before she hit the floor. All the other Ravenclaws died as well, but they might as well have been dead to begin with.

"My, my, so much death!" Dumbledore chuckled jovially, motioning to a horrified Flitwick, who had just watched his entire house perish in a frame of two or three seconds. "Contact their parents, will you? All right, off to bed!"

Everyone was so utterly disillusioned that they obeyed.


	4. The First Potions Lesson

**Capítulo Cuatro: The First Potions Lesson (aka I got bored of translating into Spanish)**

During the Ravenclaw incident at the feast, Snape had snuck out from the Great Hall without Seguro noticing. His bedroom was hidden, not even the Weasley twins knew where it was. He climbed into bed and buried himself under the black sheets.

The next morning he woke slowly and wrapped his arms around the person in bed beside him. "I love you, Sirius," he moaned, still half asleep.

"Sirius? Silly, it's me," came the voice of his brother.

"SEGURO!" Snape cried, shoving his brother away. "GET OUT OF MY BED!"

Seguro tumbled from the bed, revealing to his brother that he was completely nude.

"OH GOD!" Snape cried, shielding his eyes. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

"My friend Fitch called and said it was Nudie Day," he replied, yawning and wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I've been naked since midnight." Snape blanched, struck by a sudden desperate need to shower. "Hey…why are you clothed?" Seguro asked, eyes lighting up. "Get in the Holiday Spirit! Take it off!"

"No…! I _never_!" Snape sputtered, horrified by the very concept of nudity. So blindingly pale was his bare body that he bleached the towel whenever he showered, the true reason for his objection to a striptease was the safety of his brother's vision.

Seguro, being much stronger than Severus due to his dancing lessons, tackled his brother to the ground and attempted to tear his shirt off. Snape kicked and protested so stubbornly that even though Seguro had ripped his shirt off, it would be impossible to remove his pants, which is unfortunate for Snape fan girls who would give their thumbs to see him pantless.

But, as Seguro continued stripping away the many layers of his brother's clothes, he made a shocking observation. "Sevie! YOU'RE TAN!"

"No I'm not!" protested Severus, attempting to hide his bronze godlike flesh.

"But you told me that you were pale! You lied!" Seguro wailed, pounding on his brother's sun kissed…uh…gene kissed pectorals.

"No, actually _I _never said that," Snape said, pulling out a book from thin air and flipping through its pages. "The authors said it in the description."

Seguro took the book from his brother and scanned the table of contents. "Man, you and I do some extreme stuff later on!"

Another book popped out of no where and Snape's eyes grew wide with shock. "Sirius and I do _what?!"_ he cried.

"Sevie, that's the wrong fanfic…"

"Oh…" Snape mumbled, tossing the book over his shoulder. "Well….the authors said that I was pale, I never did."

Very suddenly, two girls popped out from under Snape's bed.

"They're on to us, Perry!" Nicole realized, pulling on Snape's black cloak as she bolted to the windowsill.

"RUN!!" Perry yelled, looking very ridiculous in Snape's oversized robes.

Then Nicole was holding a massive 6-foot pastrami sub sandwich. "Get on!" she beckoned, and mounted it urgently. Perry leapt clumsily and clung to the end. With a last, "WE'RE SORRY SNAPE!!" they were out of the window and into the sunrise, sesame seeds flying behind them like a sparkling fairy trail.

"…That…that was strange…" Snape assessed, blinking in the direction that their grand exit had been performed.

"Haha!" Seguro laughed. "Now you'll have to be naked today! Those girls stole your clothes!"

Snape winced. "No…I have _some _clothes…"

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Ron was going into labor again. He couldn't really stop the laughing, but with Harry and Hermione nowhere to be found, there wasn't even a hand to hold. Desperate, he consented to squeeze Sir Barty's feathery corpse into oblivion, until the owl's sickly eyes were bursting grotesquely from their sockets, and its talons were jutting out stiffly like a… well, rest assured, they were stiff.

Speaking of stiff, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prefect, had gone just that at the sight of his Potions master. Wait…to rephrase, his entire body had become petrified. Besides Ron, his reaction was the only one this dramatic. Around him, the other Slytherins were holding their sniggers for fear of being abused later that day.

At the front of the class, Snape was attempting to look completely normal. He was failing miserably. Aside from the fact that his expression was one of complete embarrassment, his unfortunate clothing choice added to an overall image of patheticness. His wardrobe, head to toe, was comprised entirely of past "gifts" from Seguro. Gracing his feet were a pair of adorable Poogle © slippers (age 23), his exposed and surprisingly toned legs seemed to be swathed in tan nylons. Ron's water broke at the disturbing, yet strangely hilarious realization that Snape, meanest teacher in history, was wearing pantyhose. It was like a wonderful dream that you told your friends about.

Moving on up, in place of pants, or shorts even, Snape donned an attractively tight pair of plaid boxers (age 12- "these are your house colors, right?") in the proud Gryffindor burgundy and gold. Draco' s paralysis broke, and he dissolved into violent (yet SHEXAY!) convulsions. And finally, Snape wore his tequila t-shirt (last year), which was the most shocking of all because apparently he was wearing pantyhose on his arms as well, cut off at the wrists. Ron writhed in pain.

"If _any _of you say _anything, _you'll all have detention until summer!" Severus snarled, veins pulsing on his pale forehead. "Make whatever you want, but you'll be testing it yourselves. I hope you don't mess up." The glint in his black eyes told otherwise.

Snape stormed into his office, leaving the class giggling, Draco spasming, and Ron attempting to breast feed Sir Barty while going through child birth again.

Across the room, at the wise instruction of their professor, Seamus, Neville, and Dean were emptying the student store room of ingredients and dumping them all into Seamus's bubbling cauldron. "What d'you think it will do?" asked Dean excitedly, dumping in a box of dried buffalo scrotum.

"Dunno…" Seamus replied, watching, enraptured, as it fizzed a neon orange.

Huffing, Neville upturned a _huge _barrel of rabbit guts into the vat. Thought such a large amount of internal organs shouldn't have physically fit in the already overtaxed pewter cauldron, they sloshed into place without a hitch. "If Snape made me disembowel them, by gum, I'm gonna use them!" Neville cried.


End file.
